


Scars and Nail Polish

by bitterglitter



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Minor Injuries, Neighbors, Saving Each Other, Secret Identity, Superheroes, Superpowers, someone clean the laundry room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 16:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9080896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterglitter/pseuds/bitterglitter
Summary: Magnus might be screwed.Okay, scratch that. Magnus is screwed, there's no use beating around the bush at the moment. Not when he's probably about to die, or at least get captured by Valentine. At the very best, he hopes that it's actually Valentine himself that finds him instead of a lower level squadron of nobody supers. It'd be so much less embarrassing. Prompt used: a superhero/vigilante au where our heroes have special powers and/or secret identities. person a and person b have been interacting for a while and slowly work out their ~true identities so they can fight crime together??





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theloverneverleaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theloverneverleaves/gifts).



Magnus might be screwed. 

Okay, scratch that. Magnus is screwed, there's no use beating around the bush at the moment. Now when he's probably about to die, or at  _least_ get captured by Valentine. At the very best, he has to hope that Valentine himself finds him instead of a lower level squadron of nobody supers. Getting captured by them would just be embarrassing. 

Currently, Magnus is seconds from passing out in the middle of wrecked street in the heart of New York City. He shifts slightly, and, yeah, it feels like he was slammed down so hard there's now an indent in the street in the actual shape of his body. He's not even sure who got him, he hasn't bothered to learn any names in the Circle other than Valentine. Well, that's not completely true, but it's better than admitting he didn't see who got him. 

It sounds like the fight is still going on. He's seen several other supers join up, only recognizing two. Naturally, he had seen Catarina on the ground, healing people as the fight went on, and he swears he saw Clary chasing after Valentine, tell tail red hair flowing behind her. 

And here he is. Flat on his back. Waiting for the fight to end or for him to get his energy back. He has used up all his remaining strength teleporting out of the middle of the battle, only for someone to sneak up behind him and use the unfair advantage of super strength to try to mold him into the ground. If only he hasn't used up so much energy with his energy blasts during the fight, he might be able to teleport back to his apartment, but no. 

He's stuck here. 

Magnus lets out a long breath out of his nose, wondering how long this will all take. If he's out much longer Chairman will find hi way into Magnus' closet and start taking his boredom out on his clothes. That image is incentive enough to at least attempt getting up. It already feels like he won't be able to move, but he won't know until he tries it. He sucks in a deep breath, pushes up, and

_Fuck that._

Every muscle he has yells at once. No, no, nope. He'll just lie here and accept death instead, that sounds much nicer. 

A sudden boom overhead explodes. Now Magnus is pretty sure death is the most likely option at this point. 

The Circle has always been a pain in the ass to deal with --their own fucked up version of justice seems to be centered around screwing literally everyone over -- even before Magnus joined the fight to stop them. But Valentine Morgenstern is a special kind of pain in the ass. Mind control and matter creation are such a  _wonderful_ mixing of powers, especially when they're in the guy you're trying to beat. 

A crash follows and Magnus tilts his head back just in time to see a building start to collapse. The street is suddenly flooded with smoke and debris. 

Magnus shuts his eyes, waiting for smoke and dust to fill his lungs, but several moments pass and nothing changes. Slowly, Magnus peeks one eye open. He's greeted the world being filtered through a shimmering light red. 

"What the fu-"

"Shh." Someone hisses and it sounds like it's...right above him? Then there's a pressure he can't see on his mouth, further silencing him. "Wait a second." 

A handful of more crashes happen and then are followed by tense silence. The pressure on his mouth is suddenly gone. The air above him blurs and then he's face to face with a familiar masked superhero, hovering just a few inches above him. 

He's seen this face a handful of times before. Well, more specifically, he's seen this black mask before. It only covers the bottom half of his face, leaving the most gorgeous pair of hazel eyes available for him to admire. They've interacted only briefly, running into each other on smaller missions, during which Magnus may or may not have taken small opportunities to flirt. Still, they've kept their distance mostly, so it's a little jarring to be this close. 

"He _llo_ there." Is all Magnus can think of to say, stunned from both the encounter and still from the hit. 

The superhero -- Magnus then remembers he doesn't even have a name for him yet, he hasn't seen this masked face in the news at all -- raises an eyebrow, but all Magnus can focus on is the small scar running through it. "Um, hi?" He tilts his head slightly, eyes flickering as he examines Magnus' face. "Are you alright?" 

"I would like to say that I'm much better now that I have a cute boy on top of me, but the pain is kind of ruining it." Magnus admits. 

He desperately wishes that this wasn't a situation that calls for masks and secret identities, mostly because the hero above him doesn't laugh. Magnus has no idea if he's frowning or smiling down at him. "Do you have a concussion?" 

"I'm no doctor, but I'm kind of hoping I don't. Now, not that this position isn't lovely, I would prefer to be standing on my feet. Do you happen to have any plans of getting off me any time soon?" 

There's still no concrete expression behind the mask, but Magnus swears he catches the faintest trace of pink just above where it ends on the tops of his cheeks before he ducks down, completely hiding his face. "Right- sorry, sorry." He mutters, climbing to his feet. The red force field around them shudders as he does so, expanding to make room for his height. "Can you get up?" 

"If I say no, will you carry me?" Magnus bats his eyes. The hero doesn't respond. "Right. It doesn't matter your answer because, no, I can't." 

The hero leans down, grabs both of Magnus' hands, and slowly pulls him back up to his feet. It's surprisingly easy. Magnus wasn't exactly stuck, but instead his body so tired it refused to move. Refuses to move. He stumbles once he's on his feet and reaches out to latch onto the hero's arm. 

"I'm all out of power." Magnus explains, letting go of one hand to rub at his face. 

"How long until you're good?" 

"Just give me a few minutes." Magnus doesn't mean for it to come out as snappy as it does, but he's tired and the longer he stands the more he feels like he's just going to collapse to the ground and be done with it all. This doesn't happen often, he's usually much more considerate about it, so it hurts even worse the rare occasions it does. So sue him if he's grumpier than usual. "I'll be right as rain in no time."

The hero raises his eyebrow again, this time clearly unimpressed. "Come on. I think the worst of it's died down, but we should still lie low." 

"We?" Magnus just gets out the word before he jumps, hands flying off the hero's arm. It feels like someone has shocked him after walking across a carpet with their socks on. The hero is having none of that apparently, he reaches out to take one of Magnus' hand in his own. The shock is still there, but Magnus is expecting it this time. 

"It doesn't hurt so much if you get it over with quickly." The hero explains in a gentle voice. The sparking feeling fades and is replaced by a ripple, starting from where his fingertips touch the hero's hand to the rest of his body. It looks like ripples as well, a soft red washing over him and the hero. "This way no one can see us." 

"Ah, the perks of invisibility." Magnus holds his hand up to the light, frowning when he sees it doesn't look any different. 

"You aren't see though or anything." The hero is struggling to keep his voice dreadfully dull. 

"I can tell." Magnus quickly replies, dropping his hands to his side, unwilling to admit he had hoped for that. 

The hero rolls his eyes, Magnus wonders if he's frowning. "Come on, follow me." 

Magnus has to lean on the hero much more than he would like to admit as they hurry down the street. The smoke still hasn't cleared yet, but the force field around them keeps up easily, keeping everything out. They're several blocks away when the hero tugs Magnus into an alley, both of them taking a moment to lean against the brick wall. 

The silence between them is shockingly comfortable, but Magnus can't help but fill it. "I'm very sorry, but I don't think I've gotten your name yet. I don't recall seeing you in the news much." 

The hero huffs -- a laugh? -- and his posture relaxes a tad. He leans his head back against the wall, eyes closing. "It's kind of hard to get credit when you do most of your job invisible." 

"So, do you have a super name yet? Or is that still undecided?" 

"Call me Lightwood." 

Magnus can't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "Interesting choice." 

"Like you're one to talk, Bane." Lightwood opens his eyes to give him a  _look_ that Magnus is assumes is teasing, but just makes him want to rip that mask off his face so he can know. 

Instead Magnus scoffs. "Excuse me, that is a very good name. Short, sweet, and to the point."

"If you say so." Lightwood rolls his eyes before slipping them closed once again. 

"I will admit, it is nice to know you've heard of me." Magnus grins, shifting closer. He can feel a hum of energy radiating from Lightwood, warming the air around them. 

"Who hasn't? You're kind of hard to miss." 

"How so?" 

Lightwood, without opening his eyes, gestures to all of Magnus. "The hair, the costume, the- hell, even your  _mask_ has glitter on it. I don't understand how you sneak up on anyone." 

"Small price to pay to look amazing." Magnus shrugs. "What about you? Mr. All Black. You can at least turn yourself invisible, you don't have to try to blend in with the shadows. A nice blue would do you some good. Cobalt? It would bring out your eyes." 

Lightwood snorts. "My eyes, huh? Also, I look good in black, so I don't see a problem here." 

"Hm, I can't argue with that." Magnus purrs, taking a moment to let his eyes rake up and down Lightwood's body. Whoever decided super suits should be tight fitting is a saint, honestly. In the back of his mind he can feel something, distracting him. His muscles still ache and he feels bone tired, but he know sit's been long enough. "As much as I would love to stay and continue discussing fashion, I believe it's time we part ways. Is there anywhere specific you'd like me to send you before I head home?" 

Lightwood opens his eyes and looks Magnus over, as if making sure he really is okay to go. "Nah. I'm pretty sure my apartment was fucked up in the fight anyway, I'll just head to a friend's place, not so far from here." 

"Suit yourself." Magnus shrugs. Slowly, he brings up his fingers and  _snaps._ Where Lightwood once stood is his bed and instead of an alleyway surrounding him his bedroom does. 

He doesn't bother taking his suit off before collapsing face first onto the bed. 

 

 

Alec could be doing better, all things considered. 

His sister had once told him to keep a list of good things when everything gets shitty. He doesn’t exactly have one at the ready for this kind of situation, so instead he decides to improvise it.

Okay first off: the lid out of the sewer isn’t actually as heavy as he imagined it. Sure, his shoulder screams like a bitch as he pushes it up and it may be making his bleeding worse, but at least it can be pushed up. Next, he’s actually found his way out of the sewer. He’s never appreciated fresh air more. Then…

Nothing.

It’s a short fucking list. Isabelle would be so disappointed. Well, she’d also be disappointed if he dies from bleeding out, so there’s a few more urgent issues to attend to, even with her feelings in mind.

Alec pulls himself up onto the street and falls forward onto his chest. He knows he should get moving. The big, ugly fucker Valentine sent after him is still on his tail. Alec had only managed to stun him for a few moments, just enough to get a decent head start, but it won’t last long. He needs to get up and start moving or at least hide. But his shoulder feels like it’s been ripped apart, he’s soaked to the bone, and isn’t sure any of his muscles actually work anymore. The only thing he is sure still works are his blood vessels and he only knows this because the puddle of blood he’s lying it is slowly getting bigger.

Okay, so things aren’t looking _great._

He manages to pull himself up and only hiss a significant list of curses, not shout them like he’d prefer to. He reaches up to press his hand around where he’s pretty sure the wound is, but it all feels bloody and mangled so he’s not quite sure.

“Oh _dear._ That doesn’t look good at all.”

Alec automatically tenses at the voice, already debating if he should run or fight, before forcing himself to relax. He knows that voice. He knows that tone. He turns and isn’t surprised to see Bane standing before him.

It’s really unfair, how no matter what he’s doing, Bane always looks good. Hell, he looked good last week when Alec found him almost passed out. It has to be some magic. Maybe the glitter or something. Or the bright lipsticks he always wears. Last time they’d seen each other Bane had been covered in dirt and completely worn out, but now it’s Alec’s turn to look like a mess as Bane looks down at him, completely put together.

Bane’s lips curl up into a smirk, they’re painted a bright pink this time around. “Need a little help?”

“Um, yeah, kind of.” Alec nods, hoping the reason he feels so out of it is because of blood loss. He pulls his hand from his shoulder and looks down at it, seeing it completely soaked red. “That’s not good,” he mumbles to himself.

“I’d say you’re right about that.” Bane agrees and suddenly Alec isn’t on the ground anymore, but in the air. Rather, in Bane’s arms.

His eyes widen in shock and his good arm automatically reaches out to latch around his neck. Being carried bridal style out of a fight by Bane wasn’t exactly how he pictured the evening going. “Uh- ah- wh- _what_ are you doing?” He does his best to keep his voice from squeaking, but he can’t do anything to control how hot his face is getting. Thank for for the superhero mask.

“Helping.” Bane says simply, yellow eyes gleaming with delight. Alec wonders if it’s an effect of his mask, which only covers the top half of his face, or if it’s something that came with his powers. “Now, this may feel a bit odd, but don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

“Pretty?” Is all Alec’s head can come up with as a reply before he’s enveloped. It lasts half a second at most, but it feels like someone’s thrown a heavy blanket over him. One minute he’s surrounded by a darken street, feet away from the entrance to the sewer, the next he’s in a harshly lit room next to a white bed. “What the-?”

Alec doesn’t get to finish his question. Bane quickly sets him down on the bed and holds up a finger. His nails are painted the same pink as his lips. “I’ll be right back.” He doesn’t teleport out of the room, but instead heads towards what looks like a bedroom door. He shuts it closed behind him.

Alone, Alec has a chance to take in the room. What he’s lying on is clearly a hospital bed, but the room isn’t. It looks like an apartment bedroom, wooden floors and a green, musty carpet. There’s bright lights hung up on the ceiling and all the windows are boarded shut. Maybe Alec would have had better luck in the sewers.

“I hate you.” A woman’s voice sounds out. Alec nearly jumps up as the door is thrown open. A woman with dark blue skin and bright white hair walks in, features that he can see pinched in frustration. The bottom half of her face is covered by a surgical mask. Bane follows closely behind, his own ease contrasting. The woman walks up to Alec, hands on her hips, but thankfully her frustration doesn’t seem to be directed at _him._ “Name?”

“A- Lightwood. It’s Lightwood.” He almost fucks up by giving his full name. It feels like being back in a hospital, nurse checking his information. She sounds just like a nurse.

“And what exactly did you do to your shoulder?” She asks, turning to a small table next to the bed, opening a draw. She pulls out a pair of scissors. She begins cutting off torn pieces of his suit, placing them onto the table next to her. “Hope you know how to sew.”

“I got, um-. I went after two of Valentine’s super’s and this one girl had really sharp teeth. She got a bite in before I could knock her out.”

At the end of the bed Bane winces in sympathy.

“Ew.” The woman mutters. “Stay still for this.”

She presses her bare hand flat against his wound. He flinches at the initial stab of pain from the contact, but quickly it’s replaced by a different feeling. Like someone washing warm water over him, the pain starting to numb away.

“Cat here is a healer.” Bane explains, leaning over the railing slightly. “She runs this little joint.”

“Cat?” Alec repeats, head still a little too hazy to make sense of what’s going on.

“Meow.” Cat deadpans, eyes still focused on her hand. “And, yes, I do run this place. And it runs a lot smoother if people call ahead of time to let me know they’re coming.”

Bane shrugs, still smiling easily. “It was an emergency.” He turns back to Alec, yellow eyes lighting up. “This is one of the few places we supers can come to recover without giving up our secret identities. Unfortunately, it’s a lot less than legal, but it does have real doctors and nurses, so that’s a plus.”

“Hm,” Alec hums in agreement, but he can’t seem to find anymore words. He’s too busy watching Bane’ hands, how he moves them when he talks, how the pink nail polish catches in the light. He’s so pretty.

“I think it’s hit him.” Cat mutters, finally looking up to look back at Bane. Her hand drops from Alec’s shoulder. “Lightwood, do you want to rest here? Or is there somewhere else you want us to take you?”

“‘M staying with a friend.” Alec mutters, reaching up to touch his shoulder. It’s smooth skin, not a trace of what happened.

“Ah, yes. I remember you mentioning them. Are they a super?” Bane asks, tilting his head.

Alec almost laughs. Lydia, a super. Like the government works with supers. He doesn’t. “Nah. She’s just a friend.”

“And do you think she’d mind me dropping you off there?”

“Nah.”

“Well.” Bane claps his hands together, startling Alec. “That settles it. Just give me an address and I’ll drop you off. And then,” he looks at Cat, “I’ll head on back to help with your shift. How does that sound?”

Alec shrugs and Cat just frowns, raising an eyebrow at Bane.

“Well, aren’t the both of you just _darling_? Lightwood, do you remember the address.” He does. Barely. “Across town, that’s not too bad. See you soon, Cat.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” She replies, heading back to the door.

Alec doesn’t think to thank her until she’s out the door and he’s back in Bane’ arms. And then he forgets all over again because, well, isn’t this a comfy place to be? The blanket feeling is back and then he’s in Lydia’s living room. The apartment is completely dark, since Lydia won’t be back for another two days for some work trip.

“Where do you sleep?” Bane asks, glancing around.

Alec can’t help but lean his head into the crook of Bane’s shoulder and, oh, this is much more comfy. “Couch.” He mumbles.

Bane walks over, just a few feet, and leans down to set Alec lying down on the couch. Alec frowns, preferring for Bane to keep holding him. He looks up and there’s an odd look in Bane’s eyes, but Alec is too tired to figure it out.

“So.” Bane sighs, crossing his arms. “Cat’s effects usually wear off in twelve hours. You really just need to sleep it off. If it hurts just take some Advil or something and try not to get bitten by anyone else for the next few days. Lightwood? Think you can manage that?”

Alec hardly manages to nod. “Yeah. Sleep. Advil. Got it.”

Bane sighs. “All right then.”

Alec’s halfway asleep in seconds, but he when he wakes up he swears feeling a hand running through his hair and someone placing a blanket on him.

 

 

Now  _this_ is a cute neighbor. 

Such an improvement from the last one, a stuffy old lady who didn't even have the perk of owning too many cats. She hated everything that had a heartbeat and always scowled at Magnus whenever they crossed paths. Luckily, Magnus had found out a few weeks ago she was moving out, by waking up to the sound of her yelling at some poor moving boy for apparently breaking something. There had been no news of anyone moving in, and Magnus didn't dare keep his hopes up for someone decent, maybe halfway decent. The new neighbor's boxes had appeared just two days ago in the hallway. 

Yet, this is the first time Magnus is seeing him. And even if Magnus had let himself raise his hopes, he would  _not_ be disappointed. It's been so, so long since he's had a neighbor he can properly admire. 

They're in the laundry room, which while not the perfect place for a first meeting, Magnus doesn't really mind. It's a small room with an even smaller window, paint peeling and machines yellowed, with two tables on opposite ends of the room. The new neighbor is on the far side of the room, laundry basket at his feet, hunched over what he assumes to be his clothes. 

Not the perfect place, but it'll do. 

Magnus doesn't really mean to sneak up on him, but years of having to be stealthy makes it a habit hard to break and he walks up completely silent. His eyes rake over his neighbor. He's only gotten a small glance at his face, but is more than ready to take in his broad shoulders and big arms. 

It may also have been a while since Magnus has had a good hookup, so why not take up the opportunity?

"He _llo_ there." Magnus practically purrs once he's at the table, laundry basket resting on his hip and smirk on his face. 

His neighbor jumps slightly, grip tightening on a shirt in surprise. He turns to look at Magnus with wide eyes and- 

Oh, yes. A definite improvement.

"Um, hi?" His neighbor seems a bit taken aback, but if it's due to the fact that Magnus surprised him or he just wasn't expecting anyone to join him today he can't tell. "Can I help you?" 

"Well, I happened to notice you're the new neighbor in the building and we haven't been formally introduced." Magnus sets his basket down on the table and reaches out, pink nail polish glittering in the light. "I'm Magnus."

His neighbor's eyes dart to his hand, pausing for a second before dropping the shirt and fully turning towards him. His lips ease up into a smile as he shakes Magnus' hand. "Alec."

"Short for Alexander?" Magnus asks, now taking his time with letting his eyes roam up and down Alec, able to completely appreciate him.

He doesn't miss the way Alec's face seems to heat up. "Um- yeah, but I- but no one ever calls me that."

"I don't know, I quite like the name. Alex _ander._ " He repeats the name and, yes, Alec's face is turning a lovely shade of pink. It's been so long since he's had the chance to properly flirt, between saving the world and his day job he just hasn't had the time, he'd forgotten how much fun it is. "But, if you really insist, I can just call you Alec." 

"No- no." Alec stumbles over the word, like he's trying to get it out too fast. "It's -- fine. It's fine with me."

Magnus grins. "Wonderful." He turns to face his laundry basket and begins pulling clothes out. He can practically feel Alec's gaze on his hands, but that's normal, people are often taken aback by his amazing wardrobe. "I happen to live just down the hall from you, I'm surprised he haven't met before."

"Really?" Alec's voice sounds oddly tight, but when Magnus glances over he's staring down at his clothes, back to folding. "I've been busy with -- work. And moving."

"Understandable. Do you work nearby?"

"At the police station down the block." Alec shrugs.

Magnus chuckles at that before he can stop himself. Of course he does. "That must be fun. Being a cop in a big city inhabited by superheros. I always hear such positive things from them about supers."

Alec snorts, rolling his eyes as he finishes another t-shirt. "Oh, yeah. Everyone there _loves_ supers." 

"And you?"

It's not like it matters, really. It's not like Alec could figure out who Magnus is. That's what secret identities are for, that's what Magnus' mask is for. It matters even less if this does turn out to just be a quick hookup where they end up saying hello every once and a while in the hall afterwards. He shouldn't ask, he already knows the answer. But part of him wants to hear Alec say it. To confirm, no to deny what his assumption is. 

"What do I think of supers?" Alec asks, once again turning to Magnus. He looks surprised again, but more of an I-wasn't-expecting-that rather than a you-almost-made-me-jump-out-of-my-skin surprised. "I don't- I mean. They save people, right? They try to protect yo- us. So, isn't that what matters?" 

Magnus slowly turns to look at Alec again, eyes widening until he's sure they look comical. That. Uh. That wasn't the answer he had been expecting. It's a well known fact the police  _hate_ supers. They didn't at first, but now apparently they get in the way too much and cause more damage than they're worth. So. Yeah. Maybe Alec isn't actually a police officer, maybe he's just a receptionist or something? Do police stations even have that?

Magnus tries to remember every crime drama he can and if they have one or not. 

"I... suppose." Magnus choses the word carefully, reaching into his basket. Instead of touching cloth he feels the plastic bottom. "But don't all-. Hm. Isn't it quite common for police and supers to not get along?" 

"So? that doesn't mean they aren't doing good work." Alec raises an eyebrow and immediately Magnus' attention is captured by the small scar running through it-

Oh. 

Oh no. 

_No._

That can't be-

Can it? 

It  _can't._

But it's not like...it's common. It's not like he's seen a scar like that in the exact same place on the exact same eyebrow on a lot of people. Only one. He's only seen it twice. 

Magnus forces himself to take a deep breath and not just start yelling. His mind is racing and it takes all his effort to sound as casual as possible. "True. I'm sorry, I was just a little surprised. 

"You wouldn't be the first." Alec admits, eyebrow still raised. His scar still stands out clear as day, mocking Magnus now. He wants to reach up and touch it, make sure it's real. He wants to dig through Alec's basket, see if he can find any piece of the familiar super suit.

He doesn't do any of that. 

"It's a shame, really." Magnus continues, and wow, he's impressed with himself that he's keeping the act up so well. "If there were more people like you maybe others wouldn't jump to conclusions. Forgive me, darling?" 

Alec huffs out a laugh, and oh god, does he know? Does he recognize Magnus too? That's what his lips look like when he laughs? Secret identities were a good idea two minutes ago, but as of now  _fuck_ secret identities. Magnus has to know. 

"I think I can find it somewhere in my heart to do that." Alec smirks and now Magnus can't look away from his lips instead of his scar. "What good would a grudge be against my brand new neighbor?"

"I know of some badly written comedies and sitcoms that would heavily disagree with that sentiment." 

That gets an actual, full on laugh out of Alec. Magnus is starting to move out of the territory of downing in questions to a much more comfortable place. "Fair enough. I'll see you around, I guess?" 

Magnus has been so distracted that he hadn't even noticed Alexander's already done folding. How long has he been done? Hopefully not too long. He watches Alec bend over to get his basket. Yes. He's now sure that it's the same person behind the mask. "Fuck yes you will," he mutters. 

Alec brings the basket up with me and look at Magnus, question in his eyes. "Sorry, what was that?" 

"I said I hope we do." 

"Oh." Alec offers him a small smile in return, hands stumbling over his clothes as he hurries to put them all away. He keeps his basket held firmly in front of him. "I hope so too, Magnus." 

As soon as Alec's out of the room, Magnus pulls up his phone to look up rare pictures of Lightwood, just to double check he isn't losing his mind. 

Nope. Same scar. Same hazel eyes. Similar messy hair. 

Magnus' mouth twitches up, the beginnings of his own smirk. 

Oh, he can't _wait_ to see Lightwood again. 

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays <3


End file.
